Cape Disappointment
by RainyGirl1978
Summary: One boy, one girl, one love.  Flame, mist, tide.  Sweetest joy and dark despair.  Connection.  A short story.  E/B
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Alfred Noyes owns The Highwayman. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not me. :) I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

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**This will be a short story with 9 short chapters. It is written in its entirety and I plan to post twice a week till it is complete. **

Quotes at the beginning of the chapters are from Alfred Noyes' poem, The Highwayman. This story is not inspired by The Highwayman, the quotes are mainly intended to set a mood or tone.

**My deepest gratitude goes out to my beta, LJ Summers and my prereaders, Bratty-Vamp and hott4j. LJ is arguably one of the busiest betas in the fandom and yet she still took time to go over my little story as well as helping me formulate ideas and such in the beginning. Thank you so much! BV, thank you for all your encouragement and hand holding the whole way through! Thank you for being a sounding board and for cheerleading. You are wonderful! hott4j, girl you know I love you and I'm so grateful for your read of Cape Disappointment. Your encouragement helped me so much in keeping my motivation up and keeping me excited! **

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Over the cobbles he clattered

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She never looked at him. No, she looked. But she never _saw_.

_See me. Notice me_, his eyes glinted.

Her long shiny braid swung gently down her back as she huddled with her friends and giggled.

Surreptitiously, he loped up behind her and reached out to grab that shiny braid. Catching the eye of one of her friends, but not in time to be revealed and indicted, he yanked her head back.

Her books fell in a heap in the dirt, her backside colliding with the ground. He hadn't intended to pull her down. In surprise, he ran as though he could escape her ire.

"Edward Cullen!" she screamed.

He looked back over his shoulder as he ran, and saw her infuriated red cheeks and tears brimming in her eyes, threatening to fall. She drew her quivering lip between her teeth as her friends all gaped.

Still he ran, her angry sobs punctuating every pound of his culpable heart.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

His mother's face sang with love, her eyes lit from within, as she beamed up at his father, gratitude on her lips.

His father stepped behind her, running his fingers over her shoulders as he fixed the string in place. Then Edward watched as they shared a smile and a plan for procuring _her_ attention began to unfurl.

Up he jumped and clattered out the door, eagerly running all the way to town. He stalked the streets looking in windows but nothing spoke.

As he entered the dime store, the clerk looked up sharply. Edward averted his face in avoidance and walked to the counter, glancing in the sparkling displays. He was enraptured by a pretty necklace, knowing it would look fine around her throat.

"Ahem," the sour clerk said, tapping his foot on the other side of the glass.

Edward licked his lips and bashfully asked the price.

"Too much for you son, try the table over there," he replied, irritation clouding his voice.

Edward hung his head, jammed his hands in his pockets, and scuffed his discouraged feet to the table. His fingers traced the edge as he perused. There was nothing, nothing he could impress her with, nothing to make her see him. No longer eager, resigned to invisibility, he started to turn.

But his fingers ran across the silky blue ribbon that reminded him of the feel of her hair in his clenched fist. _So soft, so smooth._ Would she like it? Would she see him?

A penny, all he needed was a penny. He could haul wood for Mr. Larson for a penny.

He imagined giving it to her. The bright smile that would grace her pretty freckled face. How his heart would swell under her appreciation.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

He came early that day. The tag simply read "To Bella, Be Mine." He laid the treasure on the lid of her desk with hopeful hands, then stepped back, then moved it closer to the middle of the desk, then stepped back again. Nervously, he tugged at his suspenders, his eyes shifting to the door. He heard the clamor of children climbing the steps to the schoolhouse.

Jumping back, he scampered to his seat as the students filtered in. _Her_ laughter bubbled through the room and made his yearning chest ache and his palms sweat. What if she scorned him? Even worse, what if she ignored him?

He was keenly aware of her presence as she stepped into the aisle but he didn't dare look up.

Her happy chatter stopped abruptly and he saw her, out of the corner of his eye, stand, unmoving, her hand lightly touching his offering. Her friends were unaware as they found their desks. Her head snapped around, scanning the room.

Only then did he chance a peek up at her rosy face, his heart full of trepidation. Her eyes searched till they landed on him. Then locked in a stare, her – all wide eyes and flushed cheeks, him – all silent pleading, his pulse drumming in his ears.

After a moment, he tentatively raised one corner of his mouth and she saw. She saw him. Her eyes fell once more to the ribbon, she lifted it in her small hand. Then looking back at him, she cast a timid smile in return as she sank into her chair. Her eyes held his for a beat longer then she looked down, her cheeks flaming.

His grin nearly split his face. _She saw. She saw me._

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**A/N: Next update will probably be on Friday, unless I get anxious to post early! :D Leave me a note and let me know what you think! Even just a "Hey, I'm reading!" I work hard to respond to every reviewer! Thank you so much!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Alfred Noyes owns The Highwayman. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not me. :) I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

Quotes at the beginning of the chapters are from Alfred Noyes' poem, The Highwayman. This story is not inspired by The Highwayman, the quotes are mainly intended to set a mood or tone.

Huge thank you to my beta, LJ Summers, and my prereaders, Bratty-Vamp and hott4j. You ladies rock!

Okay, so I didn't make it till Friday. ;)

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_**He whistled a tune to the window**_

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His rickety bicycle barreled through the quiet Ilwaco streets. His hands were fisted, knuckles stiff, his cheeks cold from the bite in the air, his eyes watering from the wind.

He reached the edge of town and still he pushed, careening onto the shortcut through the misty trees. He slid on loose pebbles, his ankles whipped by the ferns.

Pedaling harder, his teeth aching in a frozen smile, he burst from the green till all he could see was gray and white. Gray sky, white clouds, gray water, white caps.

He looked up to see her jump from her seat in her window as he skidded to a stop at her home. He hurried up the steps, and waited for her on the porch, kicking his feet, hands jammed in his pockets.

The door flung open; she was all bright eyes and sweet smile, her dress limp over her rapidly changing form.

She bounded down the steps, her thick braid bouncing on her back.

Tumbling and stumbling, their blithe feet slipped in the sand, down the cliff to the beach below, wind thrashing their clothes against their gangly bodies and hair from their face.

They raced to the surf, giggling and shrieking till they were out of breath, then collapsed against a large pile of wood, returned from the sea.

Her chest caught his eye as she panted in the briny breeze. His eyes snapped to hers as she turned to him, his cheeks a fire despite the temperature outside.

She laughed: his favorite sound. He licked his lips as her pink ones beckoned. What would they taste like? He smiled and just as his mind was made, she was up and skipping away. Skirting the drift wood, she disappeared from his sight. Spurred on, he hurried to follow; clambering to a run, sand scattering in his wake.

"Bella," he called.

She was dropped to her knees as he approached her from behind. Their rippling reflections gazed back as she dipped one finger into a tide pool. She brushed the billowing anemone, purple tentacles retreating to safety.

He dropped to the ground beside her and she giggled with glee as she pestered another victim. Pushing his sleeve to his elbow he plunged in, removing a dark jagged rock, sending several small crabs scattering for cover. A big bright orange one beckoned and he grabbed it hastily by its shell, the size of his face.

"Look, Bella, a crab!" he exclaimed dangling its dripping and squirming body over her head.

Shrieks of fear erupted and she was on her feet, running yet again.

He was emboldened and they were in flight; this game they played of who could catch whom. She'd been faster for quite some time but he was older now, better. She was nearly within reach till she scrambled for a kelp whip, warding him off with its hollow snap.

"Keep that away from me, Edward!" she yelled.

He smiled and lunged forward, dropping the crab, grasping the end of the kelp, and yanking till she was there. _So close. But so far away._ Before he lost his nerve he seized her hand and pulled, kissing her soundly on her soft lips like he'd wanted to for so long.

Her eyes flashed and she jolted back in an instant, "Edward Cullen!" she spluttered, her hands balled by her side. He waited with bated breath for his sentence, for the wrath he knew would come but couldn't find it in himself to care. His lips burned but his mind screamed for a repeat, _Again! And again._

But instead of wrath, her face flushed an intriguing deep red and she turned walking away from him.

He let out a puff of breath, scratching the back of his head, and ran to catch up. Then walking beside her, casting sideways glances as she bit her lip, her eyes trained on the broken sand dollars that littered their path, he smiled to himself.

She stopped along the surf, picking up a green glass float that rolled in a bit further with each new wave. She turned it in her pale hand and offered it to him with a small smile, eyes soft and shy.

"Thank you for coming for me, Edward."

His answering smile split his face as he took the float and she took his heart.

_I'll always come for you._

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**A/N: Next update will be on Tuesday, unless I get anxious to post early again! :D **

**Leave me a note and let me know what you think! Even just a "Hey, I'm still reading!" I work hard to respond to every reviewer! Thank you so much!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Alfred Noyes owns The Highwayman. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not me. :) I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

Quotes at the beginning of the chapters are from Alfred Noyes' poem, The Highwayman. This story is not inspired by The Highwayman, the quotes are mainly intended to set a mood or tone.

Huge thank you and hugs to my beta, LJ Summers, and my prereaders, Bratty-Vamp and hott4j.

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_**One kiss my bonny sweetheart**_

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The air was crisp and clean; the sky, blue with promise. They walked down the lane toward her house. She chattered happily about the picnic. He listened. Her eyes were two bright suns, radiant. Though he towered over her, he was a sapling, soaking up her warmth, growing, expanding under her joy.

"Stay for tea," she said.

As if he could ever deny her, "Of course," he said.

She left him on the porch to retrieve their drinks.

He sat on the swing, his long legs gently pushing while he waited.

She returned, a sweet smile on her face, a hesitancy in her step.

"Sit with me?" he asked quietly.

Her eyes on the porch boards, her cheeks demurely pink, she lowered herself next to him.

In one hand he held the glass, chilled and covered in beads of moisture. The other lay on the swing between them, vibrating with the need to touch, to feel, to hold.

Her carefree chatter had ceased, but their silence hummed their own melody. And her spirit spoke, called – for him. Always for him.

Back and forth they moved in their own time and space, a pendulum gently swinging in the summer breeze.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

He scuffed his feet on the porch, pacing back and forth, tugging at the hair on the back of his neck, and tried to breathe.

_Bella, Bella, Bella_

Just her name soothed his nerves.

The door swung open. The object of his anxiety. Arms crossed. Discerning eyes hard.

Edward's throat went dry.

"What is this about, son?" her father demanded. "Bella's not here."

"I," he squeaked. Then clearing his throat, "I know. Umm. Mr. Swan, Sir. Might I speak with you for a few minutes?"

One thick, unamused eyebrow raised. "Hmm," he grunted then disappeared inside the house.

Edward was frozen for just a moment. Then quickly followed the older man.

His heart beat wildly in its confinement. His nervous hands trembled violently. But his course was set. It had been set for so many years. There _was_ no other path. And here before him was the gate he must pass through.

A gate whose latch seemed rusted shut.

"How's your fishing business, son?"

"Umm, good sir."

"And how much longer will you be living with your mom and dad?"

"Not long, sir. I'm purchasing a house for myself, sir."

"Hmm."

"Yes sir. That is sir, not just for myself, sir, I hope."

"Uh huh."

"What I mean to say is… sir, Bella is everything to me. I want to do well for her. I mean, I do the best I can… so I can be what she needs. I want to ask your permission… your blessing. I mean, I love her. I have always-"

"Save your declarations for her. I'm not blind, Edward. I know how you feel about my daughter. You take care of her. Do right by her."

The gate creaked open just a crack, opening the way for Edward's fondest, most treasured dream.

Charlie clapped him on the back. Then left altogether.

Edward let out a heavy breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Then a smile that no one could erase erupted over his features.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

"Take a walk with me," he said.

He was once again standing on her porch. One step closer to heaven; to having her.

She left with him, a call over her shoulder to her father that she'd be back.

The two men shared a look.

She stepped ahead for a moment.

He turned to follow, the view intoxicating.

Her soft curves sang. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. She'd always been everything to him and now… now she possessed his mind and body like never before. His desire nearly drove him mad.

She paused and looked back. Her mouth quirked in a smile as his eyes redirected to hers.

The sea was blue that day as they stood on the bluff near the misshapen trees and the light, the beacon of hope for those lost in distress.

He was on his knees and she fell to hers.

"Bella, be mine," he whispered.

"Always," she replied.

His lips laid hold of hers for the first time since childhood and refused to let go.

Their tears commingled on their cheeks and on their lips. Their bodies pressed together, hands held faces tenderly, fingers combed through hair desperately.

They stayed that way till the sun set and he returned her home, all rosy cheeks, and swollen lips, with promises of tomorrow.

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A/N: Next update will probably be on Tuesday, unless I get anxious to post early again! :D Are you sensing a pattern?

**Leave me a note and let me know what you think! Even just a "Hey, I'm still reading!" I work hard to respond to every reviewer! Thank you so much!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Alfred Noyes owns The Highwayman. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not me. :) I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

Quotes at the beginning of the chapters are from Alfred Noyes' poem, The Highwayman. This story is not inspired by The Highwayman, the quotes are mainly intended to set a mood or tone.

Huge thank you and hugs to my beta, LJ Summers, and my prereaders, Bratty-Vamp and hott4j.

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_**The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees**_

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With anticipation, Edward moved himself into _their_ house, his and Bella's. He was excited to move her in as well, once they were married.

The house was small and had sat empty for years. Its shabby appearance bore witness to its neglect. But to Edward – it was a _palace_. With pride in his shoulders, he moved about, fixing broken stairs and painting weathered wood, anticipating bringing his soon-to-be _wife_ to live there. His eyes crinkled in happiness, imagining the children that would run around their feet one day, the Christmases and the birthdays they would celebrate.

_One more week_, he thought. _Just one more week and she will be mine_.

_Till death do us part._

CD ~ CD ~ CD

Her arm twined with his as they walked along the bluffs.

His thoughts were eager contentment. He was so proud to show her what he had done with _their_ house. He hoped she would like it.

"I miss you, Edward."

"I know," he said, squeezing her hand and halting their steps to look at her. "I'm sorry I've been so busy. I just wanted to make sure that I can take care of you properly. Our house is nearly done. I only have one more trip for the season." Taking her face in his loving hands, he whispered, "In a week we'll be married, and I'll never give you the chance to miss me again."

Her smile was love and adoration. His eyes were desire and devotion.

Their kiss was expectation, promise, and completion.

Their sighs were anticipation.

"Thank you for coming for me, Edward."

"I'll always come for you."

"And I you."

CD ~ CD ~ CD

The east was a blaze of red at sunrise.

_Red sky at night, sailors delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning._

But late October, the end of the season, had come. He needed this catch. Cherished responsibilities sealed his decision.

"It doesn't look good," Jasper warned.

"We'll be in before it gets bad," Edward said, securing the gear on the small fishing boat.

A heavy sigh left his friend's lungs and Edward pushed the boat in the water and the warning away.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

The glassy sea by morning belied its true intention as the men worked side by side, casting nets and dragging in their catch.

They noticed the drift and the current so they stubbornly worked faster, resolving that they'd have to paddle back once they were done. However, they failed to notice exactly how much time had passed as they focused on their crucial task.

Evening fell, the heavens opened, and the men were dangerously close to the sandbar: the graveyard that had swallowed so many vessels and stolen so many men.

The elements became enraged as rain pounded and the wind roared. Blackness fell with a swiftness. Breakers swamped their little boat. The sea flung them around in its fury till it was near impossible to discern the firmament from the deep.

In the tumult, Edward was thrown from his boat and plunged forcefully into the penetrating cold and dark. His body wrenched and swirled and fought to find surface.

His eyes burned,

_Long shiny braid _

his limbs flailed.

_Bright eyes and sweet smile_

His lungs ached

_Rosy cheeks and swollen lips_

and his mind raced.

_Be mine_

Breaking the surface, his head snapped violently back and forth, searching. A tether, a float, something, anything to hold to.

_I'll always come for you_

Through the crashing and thrashing of the maelstrom a pulsing of light lit the surface, illuminating a chunk of splintered wood a few yards away. He fought desperately against malevolent swells, coughing on mouthfuls of salty water. He grasped and clawed greedily at the life raft, struggling to get atop the wood and held to it with all his might.

_Bella, Bella, Bella_

He tried desperately to get his bearings. Where was the shore? Then he saw the source of the pulsing.

The light, Cape Disappointment, stood tall, beckoning him home. But he was powerless for anything but clinging with rigid arms to that float.

He could see no evidence of his boat… or of his friend.

_Bella, Bella, Bella_

His shivering lips spat the sea from his mouth as he forced shallow puffs of air back and forth through chattering teeth. His burning eyes fell closed and he dreamt of her round belly, bundled babies, and family stories by the fire.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

His first realizations were of his nose and throat, raw and aching. His awareness radiated out to the warmth around his body and the sounds of hushed voices.

_Home_, he had made it.

He struggled to open his swollen eyes and his body rolled to the side just a bit as his pallet gave way and a soft hand brushed his forehead.

"Bella," he whispered through smiling, weathered lips.

"No, dear, it's your mother," she said and then sniffled.

His eyes cracked open.

Her face was haggard, eyes refusing to meet his.

He sighed but watched her curiously.

She fidgeted with something in her hand, her gaze focused everywhere but on him.

"Mother?" he croaked with a question.

"I'm so sorry, dear. I'm so sorry," she said, tears choking her voice.

Confusion clouded his mind. Then in his hand she placed something dark and damp.

"She was frantic about you last night in the storm and Charlie couldn't stop her… She never came back…"

"What?"

"He found it stuck in a crevice between the rocks below the bluffs this morning…" Her voice broke in a sob.

He held it up to the light.

_Her_ ribbon. _Her hair_ ribbon, tattered, with dark red stains tingeing one end.

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**A/N: So clearly I have a problem with waiting. :) So I won't say when the next update will be because I'll probably just do it earlier than planned anyway. :D But it'll likely be tomorrow or Tuesday. **

**Leave me a note and let me know what you think! Even just a "Hey, I'm still reading!" I work hard to respond to every reviewer! Thank you so much!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Alfred Noyes owns The Highwayman. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not me. :) I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

**Quotes at the beginning of the chapters are from Alfred Noyes' poem, The Highwayman. This story is not inspired by The Highwayman, the quotes are mainly intended to set a mood or tone.**

**Huge thank you and hugs to my beta, LJ Summers, and my prereaders, Bratty-Vamp and hott4j.**

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_**His eyes were hollows of madness**_

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The fog rolled in and he was lost. He cocooned himself in its hazy comfort, wrapped his spirit in its nothingness. He was blind but didn't bother groping for a tether. His anchor no longer lived. For Edward there was no drive to be found, no desire to return.

Townspeople continued on as though nothing had happened, as though the earth hadn't suddenly fallen off its axis. They still worked, shopped, laughed, and loved.

Charlie knew.

Alice understood. Though she never met his eye when their paths crossed on the rare outing he was forced to attend.

Christmas came with its revelry and celebrations. Carolers sang at his door. Edward sat.

Someone brought him baked goods. He never answered the door and they were left cold and untouched on his step.

Months passed and Edward atrophied.

His parents tried to draw him out. They tried to cheer him with trivial invitations to meaningless gatherings. His mother brought him food and gifts of little consequence.

None of it mattered.

In March he looked around his house of unfulfilled dreams, the constant reminders of what would never be pressing in on him, jeering derisively.

He could no longer sit, no longer surround himself with _their_ empty future. He had to leave that place.

He shuffled through town without direction when an advertisement caught his cloudy eye.

_The Bureau of Lighthouses and the Department of Commerce_

_Seeks Keeper at Cape Disappointment_

A lonely, mundane, and difficult existence.

_It was perfect_.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

Edward stood in his quarters, cinching up his black leather belt and tugging on his navy blue cap with the gold and silver embroidered lighthouse emblem. He had paid a small fortune to purchase his dress and work uniforms. But money had little purpose now.

His blank features betrayed no emotion. Had his personal tragedy not been so public, none would know the torment lying just under the surface.

The Head Keeper's barnacled complexion gave no sympathy, suiting Edward just fine, as the older man tossed him his apron. Sympathy was a dangerous incursion.

Edward climbed the tower, toting the bucket, to perform his first duty. The rhythmic wiping, wet cloth against glass interrupted by astragal, was what Edward focused his mind on.

_Circle, circle, wipe, wipe. Dunk, wring, circle, circle._

It was motion, it was movement. It was life in the mundane.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

Day in, day out. Sunrise to sunset. Stairs. Windows. Lens. Wick. Flame. Paint. Soap. Brass.

But in his quarters on nights when he didn't have watch, he lay, wool blanket scratching, staring at the ceiling.

He'd listen to the wind howl and see _her_ hair blowing.

Rain pelted his window and he heard _her_ laughter.

The murky green glass fishing float sat on his small table. Tormenting him with what had been.

Memories assaulted with ferocity. With no menial task to occupy his hands and his mind, there was no defense against the bitter ache, the would-have-beens, the _should_-have-beens.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

He was invited but did not attend Easter dinner with his parents.

"Too busy," he said, though he was not on duty.

Instead he walked the bluff and imagined where _she_ stood, where _she_ watched, where _she_…

Guilt slammed his being with every pounding of waves roaring against the cliff. Despair rolled over him and he broke.

How he wished he had died that night with her.

He caved under the deep racking sobs near the misshapen trees that had at one time stood witness to his moment of greatest joy. How he envied and yet pitied his earlier, wide-eyed self. That boy who held all the joy and expectation of having his world in his hands. He had nearly laid hold of his treasure.

Nearly, but not really.

Empty, desiccated, like an old abandoned shell, cracked and brittle.

He didn't even hear his own whimper above the surf. "Bella."

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**A/N: Updates will be daily or every other day from here on out. :D It's done and you all seem to like it, right?**

**Leave me a note and let me know what you think - or yell at me if you want. Even just a "Hey, I'm still reading!" I work hard to respond to every reviewer! Thank you so much!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Alfred Noyes owns The Highwayman. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not me. :) I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

**Quotes at the beginning of the chapters are from Alfred Noyes' poem, The Highwayman. This story is not inspired by The Highwayman, the quotes are mainly intended to set a mood or tone.**

**Huge thank you and hugs to my beta, LJ Summers, and my prereaders, Bratty-Vamp and hott4j.**

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Look for me by moonlight

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The days, weeks, and months passed like smoke from a flame, slipping away, dissipating. Edward became increasingly remote – and crazed.

Grief and monotony were his constant companions. Along with his dead fiancée.

It had started simply enough. A natural grappling with loss. Whisperings of, "Bella, I miss you so much," in the privacy of his quarters. Groanings of, "Why did you leave me?" carried away by the ocean breeze.

But it had evolved into something much more. He spoke to her as though she lived and breathed, accompanying his every move.

The other keepers shook their heads in pity at the gruff shell of a man they saw, muttering under his breath, absently going about his duties.

But speaking with Bella was the most natural thing Edward could ever do. He knew he couldn't exist in a world where she didn't. Whether her spirit moved and breathed around him or whether he spoke to a memory, he couldn't be bothered to contemplate. It was her presence, real or imagined, that held him.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

The wind whipped around the tower, slamming into the storm panes, the concussion reverberating throughout the lantern and watch rooms.

The sun had just set and Edward had lit the lamp, settling in for a long, cold, stormy night. It had been two years since he'd taken his post as keeper and the bitter nights of watch didn't get easier, but he had learned to cope.

"I earned First Assistant, Bella," he told her, a small smile on his face, as he wound the clockworks for the lens. He knew she would be proud of his accomplishment.

The moon peered out from behind the clouds and violent gusts rocked the structure as he climbed the stairs to check the flame. Small pelts of rain dotted the windows and Edward watched the mounting storm, unable to see much with the dark clouds and turbulent water.

Images of his swamping boat flooded his mind. The beacon he now tended had once been his compass. The compass that failed to bring him home, to his _true home_.

His haunted eyes now sought those _he_ might beckon home.

Thunder cracked and Edward's heart stopped.

He jumped back, not believing his eyes, when the light illuminated the pale figure on the gallery, looking back at him through the glass.

She was there, her white skin and wild, dark hair, just as beautiful as he remembered. Her wide eyes focused intently on him, entrancing him, rooting him in his place, his heart thundering in his chest, echoing the storm.

She reached out her hand and pressed it to the glass as his breath held captive in his lungs, and then… she was gone.

His choked exhale scraped his throat on its way out and he bolted forward to the door onto the gallery, flinging it wide. He felt no cold, no bitter sting of sharp raindrops on the gale. His hands shook as he stepped out onto the platform that circled the lamp room. His head snapped back and forth. His cap was thrown over the bluff by the strength of the wind. He walked, steadying himself on the rail as he was buffeted by the elements and driven by terror, disbelief, and crazed yearning.

He quickened his pace, running the full circle, certain she had been there. He'd imagined her before – but this… This was much too real. She was right there. So close.

_Wasn't she? _

He sagged against the near frozen railing, gripping it forcefully and focusing on breathing and calming his racing mind.

Perhaps he truly had gone mad as everyone suspected with pity. Spurning polite society, preferring instead one-sided conversations with his dead fiancée.

He squeezed his burning eyes shut against the gathering storm, one tear mingling with raindrops on his broken and defeated face.

Anger settled itself in his belly. Squaring his shoulders, he stalked back to the door into the lantern room, slamming it with the force of his futile frustration.

He finished his watch and in the wee hours of the morning trudged back to his quarters to sleep a few meaningless hours.

Slamming his door, he ripped off his coat, tossing it at his feet, followed quickly by his vest and shirt, buttons scattering across the hard floor. He kicked off his shoes and would have hurled himself onto his bed when he was stopped short.

There, laying atop his rough wool blanket, was his lost cap.

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**A/N: Updates will be daily or every other day from here on out. :D **

**Leave me a note and let me know what you think. Even just a "Hey, I'm still reading!" I work hard to respond to every reviewer! Thank you so much!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Alfred Noyes owns The Highwayman. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not me. :) I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

**Quotes at the beginning of the chapters are from Alfred Noyes' poem, The Highwayman. This story is not inspired by The Highwayman, the quotes are mainly intended to set a mood or tone.**

**Huge thank you and hugs to my beta, LJ Summers, and my prereaders, Bratty-Vamp and hott4j.**

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_**He kissed its waves in the moonlight**_

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**_Edward was edgy. Every slight blur of motion in the corner of his eye, every creak of metal in the tower, every rustle of wind in the trees had him jumping to see its source.

He thought he saw flashes of her everywhere he turned. But never the full, intense connection he'd had that night in the tower.

He was becoming increasingly agitated; paranoia tickled his spine with its menacing paralysis.

He was losing sleep and losing his grip on reality. Each day there was new doubt. Had he really left his coat on the back of his chair as it was now? Was the corner of his blanket flipped up when he left it last? He thought for sure he'd smoothed it down. Had he left his window cracked? Or did _someone else_…

Questioning everything he thought was sure, he desperately wanted to entertain the possibility that Bella still loved him, still wanted to be near him, even beyond the grave. But he knew that likely either his rational senses or his reason had failed him.

Chastising himself for his insanity, he found himself living for the impossible, yearning for that connection.

He was furious with Bella for what she'd done: dying and infecting his mind with delusions. Yet his blood still sang her name with every pump of his heart.

Months passed with no more apparitions and Edward came to grips with the idea that his vision was nothing more than wishful thinking and grief. Time dulled his paranoia. He no longer jumped at every sound. He no longer peeked around corners or looked for her hair blowing in the breeze.

He had to get out of the shadows, so he began accepting invitations to dinner from his parents a bit more often and he forced himself to attend community events. He tried to cover his depression to give the appearance of life, forcing the specters away.

He hadn't spoken aloud to her since before his hallucination in the tower and, though his agitation had lessened, the old hollow ache was back and he felt emptier than ever.

He almost wished he could see her again, even in delusion.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

Her strawberry blond curls were pinned to her head and her beaded dress gaudily proclaimed her pursuit.

But he could not focus on her face.

He sat awkwardly, at the table, the guest of the Second Assistant's family. Apparently, the dinner invitation was a veiled attempt at a match.

"So Edward, Tanya is a very accomplished violinist."

_Bella_

"Tanya is on the community planning committee."

_Bella_

"Tanya has taught Sunday School for several years. She loves children."

His eyes blurred.

_Bella_

His non-responses were rude, he knew. But he did not have the fortitude to feign politeness.

He managed to thank Mr. and Mrs. Denali for the lovely meal before stumbling out the door into the cold November air, gasping and blinking his panic away.

In his bed that night, weary of the future stretching out before him, "Bella, I need you."

And almost immediately a calm rested on his spirit. A completion he hadn't felt for a long, long time.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

There was a chill on the air when Edward awoke from his slumber that early morning, on what would have been their third wedding anniversary.

_Bella_

Opening his eyes, he saw that his window was ajar – just a bit. He pinched his eyebrows together, knowing it had been sealed tight when he went to sleep the night before. Moving to the window, he shut it, closing out the bite of late autumn.

_Bella_

Questions assailed his mind as he dressed for duty that day. His focus was far away as he contemplated his open window.

He studied his fishing float, the one she had given him when they were children. It had been moved, just a little.

And though it was impossible, though he'd spent the last several months trying to convince himself of the reasonable explanations, somehow he _knew_. There was no _reasonable_ explanation. And if this was insanity, he didn't care.

He felt her. She had been there. And maybe still was.

His heart gave a little leap of excitement, opening up the floodgates of hope and expectation that had been gone as he lived in the rational world.

And though that hope should probably frighten him, the comfort at the idea of her presence overwhelmed him.

His task that day was to clean and polish the Fresnel lens. It was laborious, requiring great concentration to keep from damaging the many small pieces of glass. But all the while, she was in his mind. He knew she was watching. He could feel it. And so he stood a little straighter, worked diligently, longing for her approval.

He finished his work and walked to the bluffs. The sea always made him think of her. Standing under the trees, he looked out at that great unknown – and waited.

The night was dark and cold, moonlight glancing off the waves below. The lamp had been lit, sending its pulse for miles around.

Edward's own pulse drummed in his ears. He could feel her. He knew she was there. He _knew_.

He closed his eyes – and waited. Listening to the crash of waves far below and the rustle of needles in the trees above.

"Edward," she said, the voice he hadn't heard in three years filtering through the trees.

He breathed in deeply through his nose – the cold, salty bite stinging – and opened his eyes.

_Beautiful_

She had always been beautiful. But now, she looked… almost ethereal, but still real enough to touch. He smiled and the ache diminished in her presence with no thought of the madness of the moment.

"Bella," he whispered, taking a step forward, longing to take her in his arms.

But she retreated, her dark eyes widening.

His brows pinched; he _needed_ to touch her. "Bella?"

"I'm trying to stay away. But – you are making this very difficult," she nearly whispered.

His confusion was evident on his face. "Bella, I need you," he pleaded.

She was quiet for a moment. Then taking a long slow breath, she said, "Edward, I will always love you. You are the only love I have ever had… and ever will have. But you should be living your life."

"You are all I ever wanted. Ever. My life was supposed to be with you," he protested, anger building, hands trembling.

Her sad eyes softened as she took another step away. "Please, just live."

"Not – without – you," he insisted, teeth gritted.

Her eyes glistened and her breath hitched. "I shouldn't be here."

He broke, he begged, he pleaded. "Bella, please, you can't go. You can't. Don't leave. Not again. I don't want any of this… without you." His voice broke, he took two steps forward.

She turned her back and he grasped her shoulders.

_So real. _

"I won't. Not without you," he whispered, tenderly kissing the top of her head, inhaling her scent.

_So real._

A long moment passed.

Her breath hitched.

"I'll always come for you," she whispered. Then she was gone.

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**A/N: Updates will be daily or every other day from here on out. :D **

**So... thoughts?**

**Leave me a note and let me know what you think. Even just a "Hey, I'm still reading!" I work hard to respond to every reviewer! Thank you so much!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Alfred Noyes owns The Highwayman. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not me. :) I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

**Quotes at the beginning of the chapters are from Alfred Noyes' poem, The Highwayman. This story is not inspired by The Highwayman, the quotes are mainly intended to set a mood or tone.**

**Huge thank you and hugs to my beta, LJ Summers, and my prereaders, Bratty-Vamp and hott4j.**

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_**The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas**_

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A spring in his step, a whistle on his lips, a sparkle in his eye as he carried the brush and the bucket of paint up the spiral staircase to the watch room.

The Head Keeper and Second Assistant watched with caution. They kept their distance, dismayed at the shift in his demeanor and wary of the expected fall to despair. Edward didn't notice.

All he saw was the light that was back in his life. He had not contemplated the afterlife much, but Bella was living it. For now he enjoyed her company as it was. But someday, he _knew_ he would join her and have the life they should have had.

The gaping hole that had dominated him for the past years was filling in. Bella wanted him. She still wanted their love: love that even death could not defeat. And she had fought to be with him.

He began to truly live. He worked his job the best he was able. He loved his parents and went to meals with them weekly. He attended church for the first time in ages. And he went to town picnics and festivals. He politely declined attempts at matchmaking and privately entertained the song that rung in his heart, anticipating the next meeting with his only love.

At first their visits were tentative. She came only occasionally and she was distant, her eyes full of sadness and something that Edward couldn't discern. Gradually, she came more frequently, their company easier, their conversation lighter. Now, Bella visited nearly nightly. At times she joined him in the tower on his watch. At times she came to his room. And other times they walked the bluffs or the beach below just as they did before.

They laughed and teased each other. And he glowed in her presence despite the fact that she rarely accepted his touch and never initiated it herself.

Edward worked his day away, painting the interior of the watch room. His cheeks ached from the grin spread across his face.

Bella had been back in his life for six months and joy filled his heart. _Except_. There was one thing he longed for.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

Their feet made quiet thwacking sounds as they padded down the beach that night.

His hands jammed in his pockets, his mood pensive.

She was quiet. Waiting for his words.

His chest puffed with courage. "Bella, do you ever... I mean. Do you still want me?"

She stopped. He shuffled his feet, focusing intently on how the damp sand pushed in to ridges, chunks falling to the sides.

She reached out. Then placed her hand on his cheek.

"Of course. Of course I do. I just. I can't."

His arm went around her waist, instantly determined, and he dropped his forehead to hers.

"I want more from this," he said, his voice rough with desire. "I want more from you."

"That's not – possible, Edward."

"Why not? I can see you, smell you…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Touch you."

Her eyes fell to the sand below.

"I have loved you since I was six years old. I loved you in life and I loved you in death. I will _never_ love another. We _would_ have been married and as far as I am concerned, you _are_ my wife. I am completely devoted to you, bound to you, heart and soul." His fingers tightened on her hip. "Let my body be bound to you too," he whispered, his lips nearing hers.

Her eyes fell closed and her chin raised, hesitantly.

Edward fisted his hand into her dress and the other hand threaded through her hair. His thumb traced her quivering lower lip. Then he gently placed his lips to hers in the most reverent of kisses.

His body exulted in hers. Every kiss they'd ever shared was seared in his memory. This kiss carried the sweet desperation of a long deprived love. She was the same, but different. Edward didn't care. He would take her in any form.

She did not move but he was not deterred. He sucked her bottom lip into his own mouth, running his tongue along its smooth, firmness and marveling. Her jaw relaxed and a frenzy came over him. He pressed his body to her, tightening his arms, and slid his tongue into her mouth.

She gasped and he was left grasping at air. She was gone.

A slow triumphant smile spread across his face as he looked out at the water, feeling like he might burst with excitement and determination.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

The day had started off beautifully: bright sun, blue sky, blue water. But as Edward lit the lamp and wound the clockworks he watched the angry black clouds build on the horizon, darkening the water below.

As the night wore on, thunder crashed and lightning struck. Edward took his post in the watch room with his telescope.

Watching.

And thinking.

Planning.

And kindling.

It had been two days since he had kissed Bella and she had not returned to him since. His mind was at ease, though. He knew she would come back. In fact he knew she was near. It wouldn't be long till they were together again.

And when they were…

He wanted to remove all barriers. And light a flame.

Edward was wrenched from his reverie when his telescope picked up a flailing behind the crest of a roiling wave.

Eyes trained, breath held, he waited. The next wave churned and there he saw an overturned skiff, a sodden form clinging to the side as breakers crashed.

Abandoning his post, he barreled down the stairs, throwing open the door to the outside with a crash. With the two other keepers on leave, he had no option but to attempt rescue alone. He raced to the life boat and hauled it to the water's edge, pushing off into the turbulent sea.

The rain came in sheets, the wind worked against him, and the current was erratic, shifting at unexpected times. His arms and back ached with the strain of rowing against the elements. His hat did little to keep the rain and sea spray from his face as he exhaled water at every breath, squinting against the torrent.

Up and down his boat was tossed, catching air on the ascent and flooding water on the plunge. He shook his head, fighting to see, pushing, straining.

He heard the man yelling, hoarse from his struggle. He forced his oars through the turbulence in the direction of the sound.

He crashed into the side of the useless boat with a jolt. In seconds the imperiled man grasped the lifeboat with desperation.

"Help me! Help me!" he choked on brine.

Edward reached for the life ring, to toss it over but the man snagged Edward's arm and clung with terrified strength.

The wave pitched, throwing Edward's compromised form off balance and he was dragged into the water by the frantic man.

He surfaced as the man clawed, looking for some way to pull himself up but pushing Edward down in the process.

As Edward fought, the water raged.

With no one to direct it, an oar swung wild in its lock and struck Edward on the back of his head.

His fight was over in an instant, his body limp as he was tossed by the waves. His mind floated with the current.

_Bella_

All sounds muffled, a gentle roaring in the background. He slipped under.

Down, down, down.

No tension. No resistance.

Just peace. Acceptance.

_Soon._

He breathed in seawater and in his minimally conscious thought, welcomed the burn in his lungs.

_Soon. I'm coming for you._

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**So just one more to come. Still with me?**

**Thoughts?**

**Leave me a note and let me know what you think. Even just a "Hey, I'm still with you!" I work hard to respond to every reviewer! Thank you so much!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Alfred Noyes owns The Highwayman. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not me. :) I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

**Quotes at the beginning of the chapters are from Alfred Noyes' poem, The Highwayman. This story is not inspired by The Highwayman, the quotes are mainly intended to set a mood or tone.**

**HUGE authors note at the end with FAQs and Sources. :D**

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_**I'll come to thee by moonlight**_

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The burning in his lungs was soon eclipsed by a burning that traveled throughout his body, igniting bone, muscle, then flesh from the inside out.

The sound in his ears, no longer a gentle roaring; it had become a blazing thunder.

He writhed, he clawed, he screamed.

Fire.

In desperation, he searched, for any drop of water to quench the flames.

Fire.

But there was none. Nothing to give relief to the inferno that raged.

_Take it away. Please, God, take it away._

He cried out, arching his back, trying to scratch at his flesh to let it out. But something held him, paralyzed.

His smoky and scorched thoughts fumbled for meaning.

_Hell. This must be Hell._

A defeated cry poured from his mouth. He had thought he'd wake up to… her. But this…

His focus incinerated as white hot flames licked at his already-singed body.

If he could even dip one small finger into a single drop of water, perhaps he could find some measure of relief. His groaning was in vain.

He heard the weeping. But whether it came from someone else or from his own conflagrated body, he couldn't discern.

In the distance he heard _her_ calling his name, tormenting him in his despair all the more.

It had to end soon. There couldn't be much left. How could he be so engulfed yet not destroyed?

And still it raged. Blazed and blackened. Till he was delirious with not a coherent thought.

All he perceived was pain, weeping, and the fire that would not die.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

He had no idea how much time had passed when lucidity began to creep back into his thoughts.

The inferno still burned but somehow it seemed less.

Slowly, bit by bit, his extremities cooled, like sea mist moving inland.

A whimper escaped his raw lips and he felt a soft hand smooth his hair from his forehead.

"I'm so sorry," her broken voice wept. "So, so sorry."

He could not move as the flames subsided. Till they blazed their last destructive path and were done, finally extinguished.

He remained still, afraid to move, lest the flames erupt again. After a few moments, a ragged sigh shook his body and he began to focus on the air around him.

He noticed every small waft of air and every smell.

Evergreen and dirt. Moisture and salt.

"I didn't know what else to do," she whispered. "I couldn't let you go."

His eyes opened to see the face of his beloved, hovering over him, concern etching her features.

"Bella," he said, his voice surprisingly clear and strong.

Light reflected off her face and he was in awe of her. She had only come to him by cloak of night since her death and he drank her in. She was the same, yet impossibly more beautiful with curious golden eyes.

CD ~ CD ~ CD

Over the next months and years Bella taught him all about the new life they had.

He had had much to learn. And learn he did. Every nuance of movement, every skill of the hunt. She gladly taught and he eagerly grew.

She shared with sadness how she'd looked for him, despite the storm that raged, that night on the bluffs. How she'd slipped on the slick mud and tumbled to the rocks below. How she'd been ushered into this new life. The kind man and his loving family.

She recounted the overwhelming grief at having to give up her only love, the fruitless weeping and despair that ruled her early existence, and the creeping temptation to simply check in on him, changing to the forbidden encounters they'd shared.

They mourned their previous lives, the people they loved, and the children and grandchildren they'd never have. It was a constant ache in their spirit.

But the undercurrent of their love and union gave them a deep and unshakable contentment.

They loved and laughed. All barriers dropped. Life, death, humanity itself. They lit a fire and were bound one to the other in every possible way.

Nothing gave them greater joy than the push and pull of the tide, the beckoning and response of lover to beloved.

As they lay wrapped in each other, their shudders and sighs of completion, echoing their hearts' absolute joy, they smiled, they kissed, they partook.

"Thank you for coming for me, Bella."

Her answering smile was brilliant.

Their lives inseparable. Their love unstoppable. Their passion unquenchable.

Their lives bonded in life, now fired and fused in death.

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**THANK YOU!**

**Thank you so much to everyone that read, reviewed, and recc'd this story! I am so grateful to you! I'd love to hear what you think here at the end of the story. Your reviews really do make my day!**

**THANK YOU so much to my prereaders and beta!**

**Bratty-vamp, without your enthusiasm for my idea, I might never have continued on this little story. Thank you for idea bouncing, for hand holding, and for all your help in prereading! And thank you for being such a good friend. :D**

**LJ, I so appreciate your thorough and critical eye. You are so giving of your time and expertise and I just want to thank you for betaing Cape Disappointment even when you had such a FULL schedule! Thank you also for being a sounding board and helping me to sort out my ideas!**

**Hott4j, you are my sister and my friend. Thank you for your excitement and your help with this story! Your encouragement lifted my spirits and gave me confidence. Thank you!**

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**FAQs**

**When was this story set?**

The proposal, Edward's near drowning, and Bella's disappearance all happen in 1914. Edward and Bella are 19 at this point. Of course, the earlier chapters are at different points in their childhood. In the first chapter they are meant to be 6-8 years old. In the second chapter they are meant to be 10-12 years old. To me the exact date and age is unimportant because it is about the feelings the circumstances evoke and I want readers to be able to fill in the blanks on some of the finer details so it is more general.

**Where did I get the idea for my plot?**

Growing up, I was the daughter of a United States Coast Guard officer. So I always lived on the beach (the Washington coast for much of it) and I was around lighthouses a lot. Chapter 2 is kind of a snapshot of my childhood, I guess you can say: running through the woods, playing on the beach, poking around in tide pools, wielding kelp whips, and yes, even chasing each other with crabs. We even had one of those green glass Japanese fishing floats in our house. Perhaps because of all this, lighthouses are very near and dear to my heart. They're just a part of my psyche, I guess. They're very iconic and there are so many tragic and haunting stories associated with them.

So I decided to write a story about one and immediately I had the mood and tone of the story. The Highwayman just popped into my head - the tragic love and the pacing of the poem were what struck me, I think. So I started researching lighthouses, specifically those on the Washington coast because it's what I know. Cape Disappointment was perfect. It's beautiful, and where it is situated - at the mouth of the Columbia River - is known as the Graveyard of the Pacific where almost 2,000 vessels and about 700 lives have been lost over the past 300 years.

"This area is regarded as one of the most treacherous river bars in the world. Because of the large number of shipwrecks near the river entrance it is often called "The Graveyard of the Pacific." During winter storms, wind-driven ocean swells often reach a height of 20-30 feet at the entrance of the bar. With the combination of strong outgoing tides and large incoming swells, large surf conditions can exist in and around the bar entrance." - www. uscg . mil / d13 / gruasAstoria / units / capedisappointment . asp

The name was even cool!

The time period was decided on because I wanted it to happen before lighthouses were electrified (Cape Disappointment was electrified in 1937) and before the USCG took them over (1939) and eventually automated them (Cape Disappointment was automated in 1973). But I didn't want it to be so long ago that it was pioneer living conditions. And I didn't want it to happen during the time that the United States was involved in either of the World Wars.

**Why couldn't Edward go with Bella?**

Bella did not appear to Edward until 2 and a half years after her disappearance because she was getting her blood lust under a bit of control during this time. She didn't want to interfere in his life but she just had to check on him. When she saw the non-life he was living she couldn't help but reach out to him, hesitantly at first. It's not until she comes to grips with the fact that he refuses to move on with his life and she can't live without him that she decides to continue their relationship. But she also didn't want to tell Edward what she was, so she decided to let him believe what he would about her. She had been out hunting when Edward goes out to rescue the endangered man. She comes back just in time to see he's in danger and changes him when his death is inevitable. She hadn't wanted to change him until she was faced with losing him for good, which is why he couldn't go with her before.

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**SOURCES**

I did lots of research on the history, operation, responsibility and upkeep of lighthouses, specifically Cape Disappointment, the history of the fishing industry on the Washington coast and Columbia River, the city of Ilwaco, period fashion, Lighthouse Keeper uniforms, bicycles of the period, and more.

Here are some of the sources I used in my research. I quoted nothing and used nothing in specific but these all shaped the way I constructed the story.

**The United States Lighthouse Society **- www . uslhs . org / resources_

From this site I was able to access articles from The Keeper's Log journals, including articles on the governance of U.S. lighthouses, the uniforms worn by keepers, the Cape Disappointment Light Station, detailed information on the lenses and fuel used, as well as the grueling upkeep of lighthouses and the basic duties of keepers.

**City of Ilwaco** - www . ilwacowashington . com /

Here I read about the history of the town and some information on the fishing industry there.

**Other websites that were of use** -

The Free Online Encyclopedia of Washington State History - www . historylink . org /

Pacific County Historical Society and Museum - www . pacificcohistory . org /

Oregon State Parks: Graveyard of the Pacific - www . oregonstateparks . org / images / pdf / graveyar_

The Mother of All Maritime Links - www . boat-links . com / boatlink . html

Shipwrecks: Graveyard of the Pacific - funbeach . com / local-attractions / shipwrecks /

**Other Sources of Inspiration **-

I did image searches on Edwardian and La Belle Epoque fashion, the history of bicycles, fishing boats, etc.


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